While spring is undeniably my favorite season for watching birds, there is plenty to get excited about in the fall. For starters, there are those crisp, clear days when the wind blows cool from the north, the humidity drops, and the gnats and mosquitoes go on holiday. While I don’t have quite the amount of frenetic activity at my bird feeders, early November can bring in the winter regulars, as well as a few surprises.

I walked out into my yard one afternoon and heard a distinctive nasal call that sounded like someone honking a bicycle horn. Excitedly, I followed the call to a tall pine tree in the wooded lot across the street.

Peering up, I finally found the bird creeping along the pine branches — a red-breasted nuthatch!

In the east, nuthatches — small birds with a talent for creeping headfirst down trunks and branches — come in three flavors.

Most common is the brown-headed nuthatch, with its squeaky-toy voice, feisty manner, and ability to sneak in and nest in a birdhouse before our favorite eastern bluebirds.

Some folks are fortunate to also have the slightly larger white-breasted nuthatch as a regular visitor to their feeders, dining on sunflower seeds, peanuts or suet.

The red-breasted nuthatch, with his striped head and rust-colored breast, is the only nuthatch that migrates and is considered an “irruptive” species.

It occasionally ranges southward in large numbers during years when the cone production is low in its breeding area. Red-breasted nuthatches are almost always found in conifer trees where they hang out in pairs.

The male has a brighter buff-orange breast with snappy black head stripes. The female has a paler breast and not as much contrast between head stripe and back color.

When I reported my sighting to my friend who lives in Hinesville, she said, “I had one, too.” We started telling others to be on the lookout, and later that day a Skidaway Island resident called to report that he had first one and then two red-breasted nuthatches visiting his feeders.

My nuthatch did not reappear, but a couple of days later I heard a soft mewing call.

“Ah-hah,” I thought, “a sapsucker!” The mewing came again, followed by a soft tapping. Peering into the oak tree, I found the yellow-bellied sapsucker leaving its calling card — a distinctive ring of small holes around the tree trunk. I noted the vertical white stripe along the wing and the red under the chin. This was a young male sapsucker, as the female has a white throat.

Sapsucker tongues are flexible with feathery edges, perfect for lapping, not sucking, sap, from the “sap wells” it creates by drilling its circular row of holes. A better name for this bird would have been “yellow-bellied saplapper.” The sapsucker also snacks on the insects that are attracted to its holes.

Hummingbirds have also been known to visit sapsucker wells for both sap and the insects that are attracted to it.

Speaking of hummingbirds, this is the time when many folks are wondering, “When should I take down my hummingbird feeders?” I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. It is a myth that if you do not take down your feeders, you will prevent the birds from migrating. Hummingbirds migrate in response to hormonal changes, which are triggered by decreasing length of daylight. It’s not necessary to stop feeding them to force them to go south.

They need to carbo-load before their marathon, so they will appreciate your feeder until the last minute before they depart.

We are also now having some ruby-throated hummingbirds stay through the winter, as well as some western hummingbirds, such as black-chinned and rufous, coming east.

If you maintain a feeder throughout the winter, you just might get lucky, or perhaps a stunningly black-and-orange Baltimore oriole might stop by for a slurp of nectar.